


The Most Delicate of Chains

by CatKing_Catkin



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Blackmail, Character Study, Choking, Coercion, Consensual Kidnapping, Dissociation, Domestic Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Essek Thelyss Has Chronic Pain, Eventual Happy Ending, Family Angst, Forced Marriage, Forced Orgasm, Heavy Angst, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Intimidation, Introspection, M/M, POV Essek Thelyss, Physical Abuse, Rape, Secret Relationship, Team as Family, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:15:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26418553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatKing_Catkin/pseuds/CatKing_Catkin
Summary: Essek was never so deluded as to think that his sins would never catch up to him at some point, but even he never expected it to come in this particular fashion, in the form of a powerful attacker from his past coming to his mother with honeyed promises of greater political power in exchange for an arranged marriage with Essek himself - to say nothing of the fact that the man brings enough blackmail material on behalf of certain interested parties to force Essek into playing along on pain of a traitor's death if he doesn't.Essek is left alone to stare down the prospect of a nightmarish captive future, and to wonder if he's really considered the forms that a fate worse than death can take.Fortunately, it turns out that he's never as alone as he thinks he is. The Mighty Nein are more observant than he gives them credit for even now and they - especially Caleb - make plans of their own to set things right.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss & Verin Thelyss, Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast, The Mighty Nein & Essek Thelyss
Comments: 72
Kudos: 338





	1. Hidden and Revealed

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Critical Role kink meme! The prompt was: 
> 
> _"So...I always imagined people see Essek as being lesser because he's on his first life. Well...he catches the eye of someone who's very...experienced. Lots of lives, lots of prestige, lots of power._
> 
> _He asks his den's Umavi to give him Essek as his...I dunno. Bride? Consort? Either way it's clear what he wants him for. She agrees in spite of, y'know, being Essek's mother. She knows it will bring great esteem and power to their den. Essek would normally be agreeable but lately he's been so 'bratty' and 'selfish' and he does NOT want this. He resents his mother pressuring him and clearly using him and the guy is for sure skeevy and way too handsy. He makes it excruciatingly clear what he plans to do with Essek, grabbing his wrist and whispering into his ear at a party to remind him who he'll belong to...maybe even takes 'trial runs'?_
> 
> _Anyway the Nein immediately notice Essek hasn't been around...and if they DO get to see him it's very little and he's acting strange. Maybe one day Jester messages him and gets a weird response...so they go to investigate and end up crashing a wedding. It's utter chaos._
> 
> _Bonus: Secret Shadowgast relationship...a very gentle, loving, sugary sweet sort of relationship. Lots of hand holding and forehead touches and nuzzles and such.  
>  Bonus Bonus: They get married right after the rescue, while Essek's still in his wedding finery...which is probably much worse for wear now but he still looks good.  
> Bonus Bonus Bonus: They use the original wedding venue, possibly doing it while they're still fighting the dick fiance actually.  
> Bonus Bonus Bonus Bonus: Essek is really fucking short._
> 
> _I headcanon Essek as having chronic pain but that and most other details don't necessarily have to be included."_

It was not often that Essek was called home to his mother’s house. The last several times had always proceeded grave news - the death of his father, the loss of a beacon, the outbreak of war.  
  
Now an armistice had been made, and Essek was left brooding over what bad news might have followed him home from the peace talks. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have plenty of it to potentially expect.  
  
To satisfy his curiosity, more than anything, he answered the summons and arrived early for supper on the appointed night. His mother and her attendants were there, his brother was not, and worst of all there was a _stranger_ sitting instead in his brother’s seat.  
  
He brutally refused to let any sign of surprise show on his face at the sight. As the newcomer’s eyes flicked to his face and then gave him a once over, Essek was only mostly certain that he succeeded.  
  
And when the shock passed, his mind raced to take in other details - an older drow. Not entirely a stranger - Gehinza of Den Daev’yana was a common enough sight in the castle. An older soul in more ways than one, on his sixth lifetime, beloved for his poetry and blood brother to Daev’yana’s Umavi. No apparent ambition of his own, but skilled at making connections with powerful people.  
  
(Skilled enough that, when he’d once tried to... _press himself_ on Essek, thirty years past when Essek had still been but an apprentice to the last Shadowhand, one of Essek’s first lessons about surviving in the Bright Queen’s court had been that reporting the attack or making a fuss about it would be a waste of time. He’d simply tamped any lingering feelings about the attempted violation deep down into the back of his mind, been grateful that it had ultimately only been an attempt, and that had been that.  
  
Or at least, he’d thought that had been that. Suddenly being confronted with those _eyes_ again, Essek had an ugly moment of feeling as if he were naught but ninety years old again, young and out of his depth, a cold shiver down his spine and a fist around his heart.)  
  
Shock and bad memories made him clumsy. It seemed as if Essek blinked, and he was sitting in his usual seat, conversation going on around him. He must have made the usual introductions and said the correct niceties on auto-pilot. It wouldn’t have been the first time.  
  
“--return from Bazzoxan soon,” his mother was saying - the topic of conversation must have turned to Verin, as it so often did.  
  
His finger were starting to twinge in warning. Essek made himself stop gripping his knife as if it were personally responsible for all his troubles. He ducked his head and tried to actually focus on what he was eating.  
  
“Praise be to the Luxon that the conflict left him unharmed,” Gehinza answered easily. “Perhaps we will even be fortunate enough to have him return for the ceremony.”  
  
“Ceremony?” Essek asked, before he could stop himself. The sight of both their gazes turning towards him made him feel cold, made him want to wilt - he knew he should have kept his mouth shut, should have made them involve him if whatever was going on was so important, but the feeling of being talked over like he was nothing but a child who needed time to get over a fit _rankled_ in the way little else did.  
  
(As both their gazes turned towards him, he felt a flash of childish wishing that Verin might be here with them already. Gods only knew that he and his brother often hadn’t seen eye to eye, but, but...Essek was truly fond of him all the same. He knew in the way he let himself be certain of little else that at least Verin would be on his side against whatever storm was about to break.)  
  
His mother cleared her throat delicately - a sign that he had been trained since childhood to understand meant “control yourself”. A warning. He hated her for giving it now of all times, but made himself heed it for his own sake. He _knew_ by the slow smirk spreading over Gehinza’s face that the older drow wanted to see him crack. Essek would _refuse_ him the satisfaction.  
  
“That is why I asked you here tonight, Essek,” she said. “In these changing times - certain decisions must be made. Though the conflict is coming to an end, that must serve as nothing more than an opportunity to us to strengthen ourselves and our dens in preparation for the next stab of treachery from the Empire. The head of Den Daev’yana approached me with a plan to perhaps allow just that. In these changing times, Essek, we must be prepared to change with them - to strengthen our house, in preparation for the next storm.”  
  
“We must stand together,” Gehinza added and gods, just the sound of his _voice_ made Essek want to shudder with revulsion. He held himself back with increasing difficulty and simply leveled a waiting glare at the stranger instead. Gehinza was entirely unmoved - he simply sat there, chin in one hand, trailing the fingers of another idly tracing the rim of his wineglass, _smiling_ at Essek like a cat staring down a wounded canary. “And what better way to unite our disparate dens than with a wedding? Two families becoming one, to withstand the tests of time. Essek--” And this time, Essek was entirely unable to hold back a shudder of revulsion as Gehinza reached across the table and trailed his fingers lightly over the back of Essek’s tightly clenched hand. “--I mean for you to be my bride.”

“I refuse,” said Essek immediately, and there probably were a thousand better ways he could have expressed his feelings in that moment, but none half as sincere.  
  
“You do not,” said his mother, sharply, and -- and he’d long ago learned not to expect anything from her, made himself understand long ago that she was a mother by blood only. Yet something in the _finality_ of her voice still made him stare at her in disbelief, a stab of betrayal lancing through his heart. Somehow, it only fully sank in then just how many plans had already been made, while he was only the afterthought.  
  
That brief flash of his own weakness only made him angrier. Essek made himself uncurl his aching hands and brought them down flat on the table instead, hard enough to make the cutlery rattle. “Do you mean to drag me to the temple in chains, then?” he demanded. “Are we to become as barbaric as the Empire in that respect as well? If not, then I refuse. I am not some...some _unwanted bastard child_ , some third son you can trade for favors, _I am not Verin,_ I--”  
  
He made himself stop. Made himself breathe. _You are getting hysterical_ , he told himself, though the words came to him in his mother’s voice. Essek bowed his head, pinched the bridge of his nose, made himself breathe.  
  
“--and, just as importantly,” he finished, once he trusted himself to speak again. “I am Shadowhand to the Bright Queen.” _I thought that would be enough for you._ “I have no time for marriage, for keeping a house. It is foolishness to even broach the subject.”  
  
“A replacement Taskhand can be found easily enough,” said Gehinza lightly. Essek’s fingers itched to choke the life out of him. And then -- and then the _absolute bastard_ reached over to trail those long artists’ fingers down Essek’s cheek, along his jaw. “But I’m afraid there’s no replacing you in my eyes. You’re the only one for me, Essek, my darling.”  
  
Shock made him freeze for a second too long. A fresh wave of anger sent life flooding back into his limbs. Essek moved quick as a cat to swat Gehinza’s hand away. “Do _not_ \--!”  
  
The sound of the slap seemed to echo much too loudly in the suddenly crypt-quiet dining room. The sound seemed to take much too long to die away, leaving Essek with only the sound of his own breathing in his ears and the heat of their twin stares on his face.  
  
Unbidden, he found himself staring at his mother, a plea building in his throat that he steadfastly refused to give voice to. _You know. I told you what he tried to do to me. Why are you doing this?_  
  
“Deirta?” Gehinza asked, still sounding so very light, entirely unruffled. “Might I have a moment to speak with your son alone? It’s true that we’ve imparted a great deal of information in so little time - if I could just explain to him some more of the facts of the matter...”  
  
“Yes,” Deirta said. Her voice was very cold. Her hand was gripped so tightly around the stem of her wine goblet that her knuckles stood out pale. “I think that would be a fine idea.”  
  
“Wonderful.” Gehinza stood up, gave his mother a sweeping bow, and then nodded to Essek. “Come along, then.” And he swept out of the room, towards the back garden.  
  
Hating the idea of following like a summoned dog but knowing better than to waste time arguing with his mother, Essek got up without a word and followed.  
  
He truly did intend to just talk. He knew, even now, that turning his attempted fiancee into a pulped ball of flesh with the power of gravity wouldn’t actually solve all his problems. And he shouldn’t have needed to. He was the Shadowhand, now, not just a weak and helpless student. He had power and influence of his own, he had allies, there should be no reason for violence because they _could not_ do this to him...  
  
Gehinza was seated in one of the garden chairs outside. Essek took a seat in another one, steepled his fingers in front of his face in an attempt to hide their shaking. “Well?” he asked, not bothering to hide his disdain now. “I’m waiting. What could you _possibly_ have to say to convince me of this?”  
  
Gehinza leaned back in his chair, a deliberately slow insouciance in the gesture that set Essek’s teeth to grinding. He rested a finger against his lips in mock-contemplation, looking Essek over.  
  
“You won’t be Shadowhand for much longer no matter what you insist,” he finally said. “Allow me to assure you of that right now.”  
  
“Are you threatening me?”  
  
“Threats are for blowhards and fools. I am neither. I am simply stating a fact - imparting some information I received from certain sympathetic parties.”  
  
_Oh._  
  
Essek could have sworn that his heart stopped beating for an instant. His ears were suddenly full of ringing that might have been screaming, so much so that he nearly missed what Gehinza said next. “Those sympathetic parties told me that you’ve been involved in some very nasty business as of late, darling. The sort of thing that the queen would be most displeased to hear about. Really, it’s a minor miracle that I was able to intercede on your behalf - to make them agree instead to leave you be if agree to step down, to step aside, and be mine instead.”  
  
“And if I don’t?” Essek heard himself ask, much too quietly.  
  
Gehinza chuckled as if the very idea were some childish joke. “Then the Bright Queen will hear of what you’ve been up to. What you’ve done while sneaking around her back. You have such a lovely face, Essek - it’s only grown lovelier since last we saw each other. It would be such a shame to see it broken in the Dungeon of Penance or swinging from a noose.”  
  
Essek felt as if the noose had already closed around his throat - he couldn’t _think_ , he couldn’t _breathe_ , he couldn’t see a way _out..._  
  
Shock kept him frozen and rooted to his seat as Gehinza stood up slowly and approached him. Roiling terror kept him still as the older drow reached down to caress his cheek, then further down to take hold of his wrist.  
  
And _pain_ made him gasp as Gehinza suddenly gripped hard enough to make bones grind together, as he _yanked_ Essek forward and off-balance, enough to lean down and murmur in Essek’s ear.  
  
“But there’s no need to fear, darling. I’ll take very, very good care of you...” His voice was a low, warm, intimate murmur. He swiped a thumb over Essek’s lower lip, nipped his teeth against Essek’s earlobe, and this could not be happening, this had to be a nightmare, this felt like a dream except for the terribly close heat of his fiancee’s body, crowding him, looming over him.  
  
“...as long as you don’t give me a reason not to.”  
  
Then just like that, he was gone, he was stepping away, and Essek was left to clutch his bruised wrist to his chest and curl in on himself and try not to hyperventilate as Gehinza went back inside, confident in the expectation that Essek would follow.

Essek remembered the rest of the meal only in fits and starts, in scattered scenes and fragmented voices. If he said anything more, it was entirely on autopilot, the barest of niceties, and nothing more was expected of him. His mother and his husband-to-be were content to keep talking over his head.  
  
One thing he did remember all too clearly was that Gehinza kissed him good night as they were making ready to go their separate ways. Feeling trapped, feeling lost, feeling exhausted and cold, Essek remembered allowing it just for the sake of _getting it over with_ and not delaying his own escape any longer.  
  
He remembered that Gehinza prolonged the kiss for just a second longer than he would have had to in order to make it believable. _Just to remind you that he can_ Essek thought to himself, fists clenched to the point of pain at his sides.  
  
He remembered staring helplessly as his fiance - as his _captor_ made his way down the street in one direction, then remembered pivoting sharply in midair to drift away down the other direction. If he said anything to his mother in farewell, he didn’t remember it.  
  
In fact, the next time Essek was properly aware of anything, the next time he managed to blink his vision clear enough to stay that way, he found that he’d crossed half the city - he must have, because there was the great tree of the “Xhorhaus” rising over the rooftops not far away at all. The way his heart surged in his chest at the sight was its own sort of pain - raw and needy and dangerously warm, all the more sharp in contrast after hours on end of hatred and fear. He felt himself drifting closer even before he realized it - and then he stopped, took a breath, and turned around to go and find a shop that might still be open.  
  
When he finally knocked on the Mighty Nein’s door a little under an hour later, it was with a bottle of decently expensive wine tucked under his arm. The shitty night he’d had was no excuse for being a poor guest, after all.  
  
It was Nott - Veth, her name was Veth now, he had to remember that - who opened the door. Her face broke into a smile at the sight of him. “Hey there, Essek!” She opened the door even wider to let him in, and he was happy to drift inside - into the sounds of everpresent chatter, into the scents of herbs and cooking, into the _light._ “What brings you here?”  
  
“Just...in the neighborhood,” he said - and just like that, he was as awkward and out of place as ever. The feeling didn’t rankle as much as it usually did, though. After all, he knew that they - somehow, miraculously - did not mind.  
  
No, the most important thing was to keep them from figuring out what had truly driven him here tonight. “I saw that you all had returned and thought I might as well check in.” A beat, and then he belatedly remembered to add: “I brought wine.”  
  
“Great!” The bottle was gone from his hands before he could blink, and suddenly Veth was examining the label with a proprietary eye.  
  
“Veth?” called a voice from the next room over - Fjord’s voice, in the kitchen. “Who is it?”  
  
“Just Essek!” Veth called back. “Here to say hello!”  
  
“Hi Essek!” Jester’s voice this time.  
  
He smiled, his heart already feeling a little lighter, the hours before already feeling a little more distant, and glided over towards the kitchen to check in with the others.  
  
It turned out that he had arrived at the tail end of their own supper - a few scattered dirty plates were still on the table as Caduceus cleaned the rest in the sink. Fjord and Beau were playing cards, Jester was sitting on the kitchen counter scribbling away in her sketchbook. After greetings were exchanged and Essek attempted to apologize for the intrusion or interruption, Caduceus shook his head and beamed.  
  
“Not an interruption. Hell, you still hungry? We got leftovers.”  
  
“Starving,” Essek agreed emphatically - and, before he knew it, he was being sat down at the table after Beau and Fjord hastily made room for him, and a plate of some steaming casserole of roots and vegetables and mushrooms was being set down before him.  
  
The first bite nearly made him moan with relief - he knew he must have eaten before, but he also knew he hadn’t tasted a bit of it, and it certainly hadn’t settled his stomach at all. But this...the way Caduceus could turn the plainest of fare into something delicious had to be a divine gift in its own right.  
  
And things quickly...settled, after that. Once the brief surprise of Essek’s arrival had faded, the Mighty Nein went back to their business, simply folding him in to the space and accepting his presence as if it were normal. And when they did, it was easy for him to pretend, even if only for a while, that this was normal. That _before_ had not happened. That this was his life, and nothing outside the door existed.  
  
The feeling lasted until he’d picked his plate clean. Until he’d stayed a little while longer after that. Until he remembered himself at last, remembered that this was not _truly_ his home, that he’d have to leave sometime. He could not hide here like a child afraid of a monster beneath the bed.  
  
His _resolve_ lasted until he laid a hand on the doorknob, and then it failed him all over again. Then he sighed, long and tired.  
  
“Jester,” he said, because of course - strange and sweet as she was - she had walked him to the door. “May I use your bath before I leave?”  
  
“Of course!” she chirped. He could not meet her gaze, but he _felt_ her looking him over, checking him for signs of dirt or stains, doubtless curious by the suddenness of his request. He certainly would have been, in her place.  
  
“Just, ah, just a feeling,” he hastened to add, in answer to the unspoken question. A beat, and then: “...please.”  
  
“...okay,” she said, notably quiet and subdued this time - in his haste to reveal nothing, he had already tipped his hand, and cursed himself for it. “Just follow me!”  
  
He followed her away from the door, down the stairs into the heart of the house, into the place beneath the roots of the tree where the hot tub was. Essek took a deep, steam-scented breath, then started to shrug out of his mantle and shirt.  
  
“Oh!” Jester said, bringing him up short. “Oh you meant like a _bath_ -bath. Not just, like, soaking your feet some more?”  
  
He knew already that his feet and legs would be in particular agony in a little while - they always were, whenever circumstances led to him holding himself _tense_ for too long. It was true that he’d entertained the hope that maybe the hot water could ease that building pain...but the true heart of the matter was that he felt the need to scrub himself raw, and here was hot water to do it in.  
  
But he could not say that out loud, _dared_ not betray any more. So he just nodded, staring at the floor, feeling a blush darkening his cheeks already.  
  
“Okay!” Jester said hastily. “That’s okay! I mean, it’s a _really_ nice hot tub, and I’m glad you finally want to enjoy it some! I already had a bath, though, so I’ll just, like...let you chill out, then?”  
  
“In a manner of speaking, I suppose.” The joke felt stiff and flat on his tongue, but when he darted a glance upwards, he saw the smile on her face grow a little more pronounced. Essek mustered up a weak one in return. “Thank you, Jester.”  
  
“You are welcome!” She gave him a hearty clap on the back and then she was gone up the stairs, practically skipping. Essek let out the breath he’d been holding, waited for the sound of her footsteps to die away, then finished undressing and eased himself into the water. As expected, the shock of the sudden temperature change made his knees give a warning twinge - but he gritted his teeth, breathed through it, and finally submerged himself almost entirely. Even sitting on the benches that surrounded the interior of the pool, he was in almost up to his neck - this hot tub had been made for taller people than him, which sadly included Jester when Essek deigned to let his feet touch the ground.  
  
Still, once the momentary shock passed, he could already feel his tension easing, muscles relaxing. Essek leaned back fully against the edge of the tub, tipped his head back, and let his eyes fall closed. Up above, he could still hear the sounds of the Mighty Nein puttering around, but growing slowly fainter as time ticked on. Of course, it must have been getting late. Presumably, even they had to sleep sometime.  
  
But soon, Essek found himself so relaxed that he didn’t so much as twitch when he heard another set of footsteps coming downstairs. It was quiet enough by then to recognize them easily enough - and he’d long passed the point where their owner could make him afraid.  
  
Sure enough, when Essek next opened his eyes, the figure of Caleb Widogast swam into view overhead. The human was staring down at him with a curious smile on his face and a warmth in his eyes that made Essek’s breath catch.  
  
“Jester said you had stopped by,” he said. And then: “May I join you?”

Essek nodded without hesitation and moved aside. “Of course.

Caleb stepped away to undress, and then he slipped into the water beside Essek, and - and before anything else, he leaned in for a kiss, and Essek met him halfway.


	2. Broken Down Low

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING WARNING: This chapter contains an explicit rape scene, but it is the only explicit scene of its type in the fic. If you need to brace yourself or would prefer to skip it, the scene starts at the first "* * *" and ends at "He had to do something."

This thing between them - Essek supposed it must be called a “relationship” - was a new and fragile thing, so much so that Caleb was keeping it concealed even from the rest of the Nein. Essek understood and was grateful. He loved the rest of the group dearly, but the fact remained that they were boisterous and enthusiastic and _nosy_ and…and he could just as easily imagine this fragile flower of a _relationship_ getting easily trampled underfoot if they were _all_ involved.

So moments like these were enough - stolen moments, secret moments, all the more precious for it. They were both so busy that it wasn’t as if they’d really have time for anything more in any case. But when they could be alone together, when he could have Caleb all to himself for a time, the world felt soft and gentle and good and sweet and…

…and it might well be something he was about to lose for good. 

It said something about the effect that Caleb’s casual company still tended to have on his mind that Essek didn’t _remember_ that particularly nasty little detail right away. But all too soon, the reality of his situation struck like a bolt from the blue or a blow upside the head, during an otherwise pleasant moment where he sat on the edge of the tub and let Caleb massage away some of the lingering pain in his legs.

"Essek?”

With a bit of difficulty, he blinked the world back into focus, to see that Caleb was now staring at him in faint concern. Once he saw that Essek was looking properly at him again, the human reached across to cradle Essek’s cheek against his palm. “Was I hurting you? Is, is the pain worse than normal tonight? Should I go and get Caduceus, or—”

Essek shook his head, moving as slightly as he could so as not to lose contact with the warmth for even a moment. Unbidden, the memory returned of how Gehinza’s hands had felt against his skin ( _then and now_ ), but…but it was easier to shove those memories aside if he had Caleb to focus on. Caleb’s hands were different and welcome and _good_ \- Essek had made it a personal mission to memorize every line and callus and relished in the warmth that seemed to radiate off of Caleb as if he were a miniature sun all on his own. 

“It’s nothing,” he lied, and even that was easier now, too. “I simply, ah, found myself involved in some particularly unpleasant conversations today. Nothing you need concern yourself with, just, er, matters that are part and parcel with my position, I suppose. I think I only realized now that it was all weighing a little more heavily on me than I previously let myself believe.” 

Caleb’s smile was gentle and sad. “I know those days very well,” he said, then leaned in close to press a kiss to Essek’s mouth as if in apology. “I won’t lie and tell you that tomorrow will be better. I just…I know you don’t need my help to manage. Our help. But it’s here if you decide you want it. For any reason.”

Essek felt the lump take hold in his throat almost before he could blink - hot and tight and heavy as shame. It was only long decades of practice that kept him from actually having to blink back tears.

“Thank you,” was all he said instead, and leaned in close to kiss Caleb back. He was proud of himself for keeping his voice steady for even those two small words. 

He did not want to leave. He thought to himself that, had Caleb asked, Essek would have stayed the night and maybe every night thereafter. 

But he could not permit that of himself. To stay would be to admit that he was _hiding_ from the outside world, from the responsibilities he still had, from the _duties_ he still had and was entitled to. It would be to give up on himself and his own life much too easily. He knew he couldn’t live with himself if he did.

Best to make his excuses and depart before Caleb could figure out how to ask, and instead use this night to bolster himself for the days to come.

* * *

The rest of the night passed in a haze of fractured meditation and shallow trancing. 

The day after that was…normal, and staggeringly so. He was kept busy with his duties as the Shadowhand, duties which had not really changed _that_ much now that the armistice was signed. His focus might have shifted, but the work was much the same. In the scattered few moments that he had to breathe, Essek was able to feel honestly, truly grateful for that. If he could get himself back onto an even keel by getting and keeping his work under control, that would give him a foundation from which to plan how best to get a handle on the rest of his life. 

Then night fell, and he was violently awoken from his trance by the realization that Gehinza had broken into his house. 

By the time he felt the silence spell descend to muffle even the sound of his breathing, Essek had just enough time to open his eyes and see Gehinza standing in his bedroom doorway and _staring at him_ before the older drow misty stepped into the field of silence, into his bed, _on top of him…_

The field of silence lasted longer than it should have, an hour rather than ten minutes. He’d probably cast it using an item, especially since all of Essek’s attempts to claw and scratch and fight his way free didn’t seem to do a thing to his concentration. 

This wasn’t to say that Essek was able to do very much in the way of fighting back. There were _so very few_ spells that could be cast without requiring at least some sort of verbal component. And Gehinza was significantly taller and infinitely more vicious now that there were no other witnesses.

He knew how to dig his knees into Essek’s thighs in a way that made the long-weakened muscles _scream_ in protest, he knew how to twist Essek’s wrist until pain lanced up his arm, he seemed to know every site of a potential flareup that Essek had ever had and he seemed to delight in pushing it until Essek couldn’t _breathe_ for pain.

And Gehinza used that pain for the sake of pushing even further, for the sake of giving himself the chance to shove a gag in Essek’s mouth and even tie one wrist to the headboard. Essek knew what was ultimately going to happen long before it did, had known since the moment he’d felt the other drow’s hungry gaze upon him within his own house, but knowing it didn’t mean he could do anything about it. Gehinza knew that. Gehinza _delighted_ in that. 

So he took his time, by the time he was ready. He took his time overpowering the last of Essek’s resistance for the sake of undressing him, knowing that by then Essek had no choice but to be helpless, to feel himself being laid bare. Essek laid there, staring at the ceiling, trembling with dread, not quite numb enough with horror. He felt Gehinza’s gaze on his face like a tangible thing, drinking in whatever he saw there. He felt his legs being spread. 

_“Relax,”_ the monster cooed, just as he had thirty years ago. _“Or else this will hurt.”_

Essek tensed at the first press of slick fingers against his hole. He couldn’t relax. It did hurt. 

He knew better than to think that Gehinza didn’t relish pushing forward despite that. Especially since the preparation was perfunctory - by the time the other drow laid down on top of him and pushed his cock inside, the stretch and burn of being _forced open_ were still very much present. He felt Gehinza’s pleased purr at the realization as a rumble against his chest, a perverse echo to his own pained gasp.

The first time his fiance raped him was fast, rough, and hard. When it was done, he pulled out, stretched out beside Essek on the bed, and waited patiently to be ready to rape him again.

By the time the field of silence faded - after an hour, how could it have only been an hour - it was happening a second time. This time, Essek’s captor was slow and deep and _deliberate_. This time, he seemed intent on making sure that Essek remained _present_ for every second of the experience. If Essek looked away, if Essek closed his eyes, then Gehinza simply stopped moving while staying buried to the hilt inside him. The threat was clear and Essek despised himself for eventually complying but what else was there to _do…_

When the field of silence faded and sound came roaring back into the world, the first sounds he heard were those of flesh meeting flesh, of Gehinza’s openly pleasured moans so close to his ear and his own pained gasps.

What was worst was that he now had to _listen_ to the other drow whisper to him in a voice as sickly sweet as poison.

 _“Oh Essek, oh my darling, you have been entirely worth the wait. I know it’s bad luck for the groom to take his pleasure before the wedding night, but I couldn’t resist celebrating the fact that you’re finally, finally mine.”_ His hips stuttered, and scant seconds later he spilled himself with a growl, biting a mark into Essek’s neck as he did so.

This time, when he pulled out and stretched out on the bed to recover, he amused himself by toying with Essek’s cock, stroking it and teasing it and laughing at how Essek squirmed in useless protest, until Essek had no choice but to come with a miserable, bitten-off moan. 

It was morning when Gehinza finally left, and by then, Essek was too worn down _(too broken)_ to even contemplate taking advantage of the fact that the person he hated most in all the world has just turned his back.

It was all he could do to draw his limbs in close and watch, feeling more than a little detached from his own eyes, as Gehinza got dressed and left the room.

The faint stirrings of rage he felt when the older drow blew a kiss at him before closing the door were comforting, in a way. It was something, to know he was even still capable of that much after a night of torture.

But after that…time passed. Later on, he would learn that it was a couple of hours. In the moment, he could only drift, lost on a numb tide of horror, resignation, cloying despair and bitter loathing.

He had to do something. What happened last night couldn’t be allowed to stand, could it?

_(But what was there to do?)_

He could tell someone—

_(Which did him no good last time.)_

He was more powerful now than he was then. He was respected, he was _valued_ , he was—

_(—and all of that would fall to pieces if he admitted to this, to say nothing of if word got out of what he’d done.)_

He could follow Gehinza and kill him. He could make it slow and painful. He still had faith that he was the stronger mage.

_(And so he came around again to the fundamental point of_ _Gehinza_ _having connections to parties who would gleefully sell Essek out to see him just as dead, just as slowly and painfully. Those names he whispered to Essek last night could not have been learned by accident.)_

Perhaps it would be worth it all the same. Otherwise, he was left with the cold and hollow realization that he was staring down _a lifetime_ of being this man’s pet, his plaything, his doll to violate and abuse on a whim.

Perhaps death was not _such_ a terrible alternative.

_(Did he truly believe that, knowing the torturous fate that awaited traitors to the Dynasty? When he himself had conducted the interrogation of prisoners in the Dungeon of Penance?_

_There were other, easier ways to die. But was he brave enough to take that step entirely under his own power?_

_Of course he wasn’t. If he were a brave man, he never would have gotten into this situation in the first place.)_

It was torture, to drag himself up off the bed. It was agony, to dress and then creep inch by inch to his bedroom door, and then out into the yawning stillness of his house, for the sake of seeing whether Gehinza had truly gone.

Several searches of every room eventually confirmed to Essek’s satisfaction that he was truly alone in his own space again.

_(Not that it mattered. Just because he was alone didn’t mean he was safe.)_

He would review the protections he had around the house. He would find which one had given way. He would _keep this from happening again_ , and in the meantime he would do…

…something.

He could go to the Mighty Nein, he could go to Caleb, he could—

_(And put them in that monster’s path? They were already too involved with him. Essek’s captor had no fondness for them._ _Gehinza_ _wouldn’t hesitate to dispose of them._

_More than that, just the thought of telling Caleb any of this made him feel as if he really would die of shame.)_

There had to be something he could do. There had to be a way out of this.

But in the end, the fact remained that he was the Shadowhand, and there were duties he had to attend to if he wanted to keep anyone from having any suspicions about what was going on, and that left him with precious little time to think of anything else at all.

He did not trance during the next night. He stayed awake, vibrating with pent=up tension and fear, and kept watch for the duration. Exhaustion claimed him on the second night. He let himself trance of his own volition on the third.

Gehinza returned on the fourth.

A night of being held captive in his own room and violated on his own bed was no easier the second time.

 _“It’s almost charming how you thought you could keep me away, darling,”_ Gehinza whispered to him at one point. _“But I suppose you need a reminder that you’re_ mine _. And that means I will always find my way back to you.”_

The fact remained that Gehinza of Den Daev’yana was a man of no small amount of influence and resources, on top of having some magic power in his own right.

When those two factors were combined together, it created an unfortunate reality where, no matter how frantically Essek reviewed the protections on his house again and again, there were none that he had at his disposal which couldn’t be dispelled or unraveled by the right item or spell. That cold reality fixed itself in his mind the next morning as he once again spent hours building up the courage to even uncurl and get up off the floor.

Another forced family dinner happened three days later, which he didn’t learn until he arrived was for the sake of welcoming Verin home. His brother had returned for the wedding. What might have been a genuinely pleasant reunion - he did love his brother, despite everything - was soured entirely when Deirta made offhanded mention that she’d _had a key made for_ _Gehinza_ so that he and Essek could _get to know one another and—_

And Essek went away for a few seconds, after that.

When he blinked and the world faded back into existence around him, it was to see that the table had been smashed, the pieces scattered to every corner of the room, food flung absolutely everywhere. He could feel the buzzing hum of his own power fading from his fingertips. 

Over the sound of raised voices - Deirta’s in indignation, Verin’s in concern - Essek found himself staring at his mother as if she were a fixed point in space. He could barely hear them over the sudden roaring in his ears. He could barely hear the sound of his own _breathing_ , though he felt his chest heaving with emotion.

 _Did you know did you know what he had planned do you know what he’s been doing to me do you_ care…

He flinched violently at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder, looked round to see that it was only Verin, staring at him in open fear.

 _No,_ whispered the last vestiges of his common sense. _Concern_. His brother was concerned for him. And why shouldn’t he be? 

_(Concern had always been easiest to accept from Verin, cheerfully stupid puppy that he was._ _They hadn’t seen each other in over a year and he would have given so much for it to be under better circumstances than this.)_

“Essek,” Verin was saying, loud and slow to get through whatever haze had taken hold of him. “What’s the matter? What’s happened?”

“Nothing,” Essek heard himself saying, as if the words were a distant stranger’s. “Nothing, it is — it is a glitch, a misfire, I am exhausted, that is all—” And that part, of course, was entirely not a lie.

Verin’s expression softened. His touch grew gentler - rather than gripping, he moved to rub his hand up and down Essek’s arm in long, soothing strokes. “Come with me,” he said. “Outside. We’ll get some air - you look as if you’re _suffocating—”_ And it was equal parts delirious exhaustion and morbid humor that made Essek cut him off with a fit of hysterical giggles. _My fiance likes to choke me as he pins me to the bed, mother, did you know, do you care…_

Later on, he would reflect that things might have gone differently if it had actually been Verin to lead him outside. As it was, Essek froze into painful stillness at the feeling of another hand gripping his other shoulder.

“A fine idea,” Gehinza purred, in a voice like silk and spiders. “I’ll take him outside for some air, shall I?” Verin opened his mouth, perhaps to protest, but Gehinza cut him off smoothly. “You should stay and help your mother clean up. I wouldn’t know where everything should get put away.” He laughed, light and easy and so perfectly casual, and Verin…Verin closed his mouth. Of course he did. Essek didn’t blame him for that. To accuse Essek’s betrothed of foul intentions based on what couldn’t be anything more than a hunch would go against all the protocols and mores they’d been raised with.

And Verin had always been a better student of those than Essek had.

With his jaw clenched tight enough to ache, Essek allowed himself to be steered out of the dining room. He regained enough of his courage to shake Gehinza’s hand _off_ of him once they were both out of sight, felt his cheeks burn when doing so only made the other drow laugh, and - because there was still nothing else to be done - trailed after his captor outside.

He was briefly, dully confused when Gehinza led him down the street and into an alley rather than into the back garden where they’d talked before and then he understood the other man’s intentions when, the second they were out of immediate sight, Gehinza slapped him across the face.

The blow fell hard enough to make his vision flash briefly white, make his head snap hard to the side, even make him lose control over his hovering spell. The feeling of his knees hitting the ground was a duller melody of pain to add to the greater harmony. 

“That,” Gehinza drawled, as Essek tried frantically to blink his vision clear. “Was _terribly_ embarrassing for the both of us.” Essek had just enough time to stare up at him and feel his traitorous heart _quail_ at how very much more that Gehinza seemed to loom over him from this perspective before he was slapped again. “Aren’t you grateful that I was able to escort you out of there before you were pressed for any _dangerous details_? Before you found a way to make the situation worse, to make more of a mess?” 

Without waiting for an answer - Essek knew him well enough by now to know that he rarely wanted an answer - the other drow carried on. “But don’t expect me to intervene like that on your behalf very often in the future, my darling. In fact…well, Essek, you hold a great many charms for me as a bride. That’s why I feel it only fair to warn you that, if you insist on making these little outburst a regular habit in the future, even those charms will become…insufficient. And you’ll be of more use to me as food for the wolves. Do you understand?”

Essek nodded, staring at the ground, and then recoiled sharply back as Gehinza took hold of his chin and forced his gaze back upwards.

“I asked you if you understood, Essek,” Gehinza whispered. His voice was very cold. Like this, his face was entirely in shadow. Like this, he looked and sounded as much the monster as Essek knew him to be.

And all Essek could think was how he felt tired down to the bone.

“Yes,” he whispered. He swallowed, still tasted blood, and added: “ _Sir_.”

It was like flipping a switch, the way Gehinza’s face went from cold and stony to smiling brightly. “Good boy,” he said. He brushed a thumb tenderly along Essek’s bottom lip, then patted his bruised cheek. “I think you should run along home, hm? Dinner has been _thoroughly_ ruined - I’ll make your excuses to Verin and the Lady Deirta.”

Essek hated himself for agreeing. He hated himself for staggering to his feet, recasting the hover spell - his knees were already aching - and drifting back out into the street to head away from his family’s house.

But all he could think was that even a couple of hours without Gehinza’s presence would be worth trading almost anything for. 

* * *

Verin came to see him at his house later on. Essek heard the knocking, saw him outside when he went to check at the window.

He didn’t answer the door. He simply returned to his study, waited a little while longer, and eventually the noise stopped.

* * *

And so nearly two more weeks passed in much the same fashion.

Essek hated himself for learning how to _manage_. He learned which sorts of behaviors made things _hurt less_ or _end faster_ , and hated himself even more for occasionally letting himself adopt those behaviors when it all got to be _too much_. It felt dangerously close to giving in. It felt like _acceptance._

He told himself that he was simply being pragmatic. He told himself that he had to survive long enough to find an opportunity to turn his situation around. 

As the days wore on, that assurance to himself became harder and harder to believe. As the days wore on and he _did_ make some attempts to get control of his own life back, it slowly became apparent to him that all the power and status he’d clawed for himself still ultimately didn’t matter at all in the face of Xhorhas’ longstanding politics. He learned that he had perhaps only ever been feared, never truly respected. He learned that the only true allies he had - at least, those who wouldn’t abandon him for someone of a higher station at the first opportunity - were the only people he considered too precious to lose.

He hadn’t seen Caleb or the Mighty Nein in all that time. He hadn’t talked to Verin outside his mother’s supervision. Why should he? What would it matter if he did? They had all already been too deeply involved with him for too long. Putting them in the path of a man like Gehinza, a man who wouldn’t hesitate to dispose of them and who had the resources to do so, wouldn’t have been his greatest sin. But he knew it would be the one he’d feel the most keenly.

_(Maybe, when all was said and done, he deserved this fate.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the situation will show improvement next chapter! Thank you for sticking with me!


	3. Invitational

There was a celebration at his mother’s house the night before the wedding was to take place. Essek was grateful that it was there rather than at his own home - his was larger, but a night of having so many strangers traipsing around through it, all for the sake of congratulating him on this nightmare, might actually have finished breaking him. 

As it was, in his mother’s halls, he could go away in his head beyond what it took to smile and manage the necessary formalities, and otherwise drift through the night without having to feel much of anything.

Or at least, that had been the plan. 

Then it turned into the Marquis Demesne’s party all over again. 

He could look back later and realize that, however the Mighty Nein had gotten themselves invited, they’d immediately set to work corralling Essek where they’d wanted him without ever actually saying a word. It had started with him overhearing a heartstoppingly familiar laugh in the parlor and looking over to see that Jester had ingratiated herself with Lady Oleme of Den Beltune.

He made his hasty escape before she could get near to him, only to quickly find that the Mighty Nein had more or less canvased the house behind his back. He saw Yasha lingering awkwardly in the dining hall, Caduceus was in the back garden, and Beau was passing out sparklers to some kids just outside the front door. As soon as Essek opened the door to the library, it was to hear Fjord having a loud discussion with Lady Maliern of Den Zolaed. And when he tried to head upstairs and hide in his brother’s room, he was inordinately lucky to notice Veth sitting on the windowsill with her flask before he’d cracked the door more than an inch.

Essek was not proud of what he did next, but he needed a moment to breathe, he needed a moment _alone_ , and the last room he could think of where he might find that was the house’s attic. So he got the door in the ceiling opened, floated up without bothering with the ladder, and so _of course_ that was the room where Caleb had been waiting for him all along. 

Essek’s flinched violently and swore in shock, yet the dusty, ancient air of the room seemed to suck the sharpness out of his voice immediately. Caleb looked briefly concerned, no doubt at the vehemence of his reaction. But, as Essek sat down with a deepseated sigh of resignation, a slow, slight smile lit the human’s face instead.

“Hello,” he said, and left it at that.

“Hello,” Essek said tiredly, when it became clear that Caleb was going to leave it at that. And then: “I don’t know why you’ve broken into my mother’s house, but—”

“We didn’t, actually. Your brother was kind enough to extend an invitation.”

“Verin?” Now there was a surprise, so much so that Essek felt his heart stutter a beat with the force of it. 

Caleb nodded, making a vague noise of assent, and then - and then his expression went _soft_ in the way it always did when the two of them laid eyes on each other after a long while away. Essek returned the smile without thinking and without hesitation, and then was suddenly seized by a bone-deep and overwhelming urge to cry. 

“Should I offer my congratulations?” Caleb asked quietly. 

Something in his eyes left Essek with no choice but to look away. “You don’t have to,” he whispered. “I should have told you of this myself. I should have done you the courtesy of breaking things off with you in person, rather than relying on my brother to convey the news this way.”

“‘Break things off’?” And Caleb’s tone was still so damnably gentle but something about hearing _him_ say those words made them sound like a death knell.

Somehow, it was only then that Essek realized- really, truly understood - that this might well be the last night he ever saw Caleb. It would certainly be the last night he’d ever be this close, the last night he’d ever be free to reach out and touch, to—

“Of course.” The burning sting in his eyes had become the only thing he could feel for the sake of keeping those tears ruthlessly at bay. Essek realized that everything else had gone cold and numb. Once again, he heard his voice as if it were a stranger talking, the words coming with what felt like no conscious input from his mind. They certainly weren’t what he wanted to say, and yet they were what he had to say, because: “What we had before cannot continue past tomorrow. You deserve better than to be the _bit of fun_ that a married man keeps outside the house.”

“Essek.”

He had to fight to keep from flinching at the sound of his name, at the sound of Caleb getting to his feet and crossing the short distance between them, at the feeling of him reaching out, because for a wild moment his heart was hammering and his thoughts were racing and he was sure he was about to be shouted at, condemned, demeaned or hit or—

But Caleb’s touch was warm and careful as he smoothed back Essek’s bangs, then tucked a stray strand of hair back behind his ear. Essek managed to look up just in time to see Caleb kneeling down before him so that they could be at eye level. And suddenly all Essek could think about was how Caleb had always made sure to treat him like an equal even when he’d found Essek at his lowest and most contemptible, how Caleb had never made him feel _small_ or used their difference in height to loom over him, or…

Caleb reached out a hand and Essek was nowhere near strong enough to pull away. In fact, when he felt Caleb’s hand come to rest against his cheek, Essek curled his fingers around Caleb’s wrist to keep it there. He even felt a little gratified when doing so made Caleb’s breath catch, though the human recovered fast enough anyway.

“Setting aside what you think I deserve,” Caleb murmured. “What do you _want_ , Essek? Do you want me to stay? Do you want to continue what we’ve had? Because I would, if you wanted that. I would be glad to.”

“You deserve better,” Essek forced himself to say. “You deserve someone who can be with you entirely.”

“I don’t want anyone else,” Caleb said, simple as that, and—oh. Oh. Essek felt the tears slip free to trail down his cheeks at last.

Caleb didn’t look surprised. He simply thumbed the tears away with infinite care, then cradled Essek’s face in both his hands and kissed his forehead like a benediction.

“Do you want us to take you away from here?” he asked in barely more than a breath.

Essek’s eyes snapped open. His breath froze - it seemed as if even his heart stopped beating for a long, traitorous, torturous moment.

Over the renewed roaring of his ears, he heard Caleb continuing on: “We could do it easily. We could get so far away before anyone knew what had happened. If you just relaxed and let me turn you into a mouse for an hour, I could carry you out of here in my pocket, or I could open that window there and turn you into an eagle so you could fly wherever you wanted. Or we made half a dozen different plans just on the walk here. Say the word, Essek, and we will take you away.”

Now he could feel his heart beating - it was thrumming like a trapped bird, drumming a staccato pulse against his ribs, a pulse he could feel all the way out to his fingertips.

It would cause so many problems to say yes. It would mean so much danger, it would mean a complete upending of the life he had struggled to build for himself for decades.

But it would mean he was free. It would mean staying with Caleb. And it would be _so easy_ to say yes.

If he’d been given just another few seconds, he knew he would have said it, but then:

_“Essek? Dear heart, are you up there?”_

The sound of Gehinza’s voice drifting up through the open hatch made Essek choke on a breath.

He’d been so frazzled by the sight of Caleb that he’d let himself forget to _close the bloody door_.

Allowing his betrothed to see Caleb here, see them like this, was not an option. It was one of the hardest things Essek could ever remember doing to tear himself away, to get back up and dust himself off and make his face presentable once more. “Just a moment,” he called back. “I’m coming down.” He shot Caleb a warning look, a look that meant _stay here_ as plainly as he could manage without words. He saw Caleb’s throat bob as he swallowed, saw his gaze dart from the hatch to Essek and back again - but thankfully, he remained where he was.

Essek gave him a curt nod, bit back any words of farewell, and descended to meet his fiance back on the second floor.

He did not see Caleb again that night. One by one, he ceased to see any of the Mighty Nein, and Essek was once again left alone in his mother’s house, virtually surrounded by congratulatory strangers.

After that, it was almost a relief when Gehinza made excuses on both their behalfs and took Essek away for the night. 

At least the pain of being used through the night was becoming an increasingly familiar one. Besides, by that point Essek was too drained of emotion or pride to put up even the presence of fighting back, so even that pain was somewhat lessened. 

* * *

Gehinza left two hours before the first morning bell, to prepare himself for the ceremony at his own residence.

Verin arrived just as the second morning bell was chiming to help Essek get himself ready as well. 

This time, Essek let him in. He knew that if he didn’t have someone else to watch him, he would lay back down in bed and stay there until someone came to drag him out. He truly did not have the energy for much on his own, especially when his limbs and his legs especially were a humming archipelago of aches and twinges from the night before. 

Verin seemed cheerful when Essek went to open the door for him, more cheerful than Essek had seen him in days. He in fact seemed much the way he usually was when weddings weren’t looming. 

It was strange, to say the least, and probably something that Essek should have asked about. But really, he couldn’t see how it mattered that much, and Verin’s company in this newly sunny mood made the morning pass almost pleasantly. He made Essek breakfast and sat with him until Essek had eaten half a plate, he helped him get dressed, and even took some time to neatly style Essek’s hair and apply some makeup to his face.

As if he were an adolescent preparing for a first date, rather than a man walking to a gallows. 

In the end, Essek found that he didn’t mind. He even found himself enjoying the doting attention from his family, despite the cause. He could almost _forget_ the cause, in scattered moments here and there. He could probably even have pretended for a while, even if only to himself, that he _was_ just preparing for a simple date. 

But then the midday bell chimed, and Verin shot him a look that Essek understood without words. It was time to go to the temple.

They grabbed a carriage, and as it drew closer and closer to their destination, all of Verin’s easy chatter could no longer keep away the poisonous leaden weight growing in the pit of Essek’s stomach.

Once they arrived (and oh, what a crowd had turned up for today), it was all too easy for him to wind up separated from his brother in the thick of last-minute preparations.

But even as horror and despair and, yes, _resignation_ left him numb once more, as he was swept along in someone else’s idea of a fantasy, Essek found himself chewing on something Verin had said to him in the last moments before they stepped outside.

_“Try to keep your chin up, brother. I think today is going to be a lovely day.”_

* * *

The ceremony itself was almost a formality, in the end. It was a lot of pomp and circumstance and established tradition. Essek wasn’t actually expected to _engage_ very much. All he had to do was wait for his cue to say the right words and go where he was told and make all the right motions. He knew the part he had to play, and he was resigned to playing it.

So it was a shock, to say the least, when the reciting of the vows was interrupted by a raised voice from the back of the hall.

“Uh, excuse me?”

The voice itself wasn’t very loud, but it was pitched in a way to carry easily over the heads of the crowd and echo against the temple roof.

The voice was also _impossibly_ familiar.

Heads turned - even Essek’s - because how could they not? And, sure enough, there stood Caduceus Clay at the back of the hall, towering easily over the crowd and smiling sheepishly.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said. “They told me there’d be a designated spot where I could interrupt? Something about ‘if anyone objects to this union’ - do you not do that here? Is that not a part of things here? Well, isn’t that interesting.” The purple crystal at the top of his staff began to glow. “Still, I should probably mention now that we _do_ object, and we _are_ interrupting.”

The sound of a crossbow bolt being readied also echoed _terribly_ loudly in the sudden, deafening silence, especially since the sound was coming from behind the cleric overseeing the ceremony.

“We’re taking Essek with us,” Veth said. “We can do this the easy way, or the _explosive_ way.”

There were three shimmers in the air scattered throughout the crowd as Fjord, Jester, and Caleb all dropped their disguise spells. Yasha and Beau flashed into visibility. Most everyone else around him looked horrified or shocked or frightened, except for Verin who was _beaming_ like a self-satisfied cat.

The silence was broken by the crowd slowly descending into a chaotic morass at this sudden deviation from the script. It was Gehinza, of course, who sought to bring things back to heel.

“Kill them all,” he said, pointing directly at Caleb. Both the guards of Den Daev’yana and the guards of Den Thelyss moved in immediately to do just that.

Or at least, they moved in to make the attempt.

The instant Essek saw a sword flash in Caleb’s direction, he remembered how to fight back, and the soldier in question suddenly found gravity inverted hard enough to slam him into the ceiling.

That was all it took for the wedding to descend into absolute chaos. The Mighty Nein, of course, waded in gleefully. Essek felt only the barest flicker of hesitation - then he heard Verin calling his name, and that was all it took before he was wading in with them.

He realized quickly that none of the others were fighting to kill, probably only fighting to get things under control long enough to carve themselves a path out of the building with Essek - after all, a teleportation circle took time. At first it became a matter of finding their way through to one another in the melee. Despite their strength, their foes were numerous, especially when some of the wedding guests started weighing in with their own magic on Gehinza’s side. 

Despite the danger, Essek found himself _laughing_ as he lashed out with his magic to help his friends help him escape. 

At least, Essek thought at first that none of the Mighty Nein were fighting to kill.

Then he stepped on _something_ in the process of sidestepping a crossbow bolt, and looked down to see Gehinza’s lifeless, glassy eyes staring up at him.

The hardest thing would have been to say for certain exactly _how_ he'd died. In the span of the few minutes since the fight had started, since Essek had last laid eyes on him, he'd been struck down by so many different types of attacks, from cutting to blunt to magical and _others_ that even Essek couldn't identify at a glance.

The world tilted and spun out from under him, and Essek briefly remembered what it was like to really, truly _fly_. 

He might have let himself become so lost to dizzying, disbelieving joy, but for the sudden feeling of a back against his to ground him. A hand seeking out his to grasp it tight. _Caleb_. 

“Fjord is waiting to get you out of here,” Caleb said, pitching his voice to be heard over the melee. “We just have to get you over to him. Can you follow me? Are you all right?”

Essek nodded - he found that he somehow couldn’t bring himself to tear his gaze away from Gehinza’s face, as if by looking away he would somehow make this _not be real_. It took him a crucial second to remember that Caleb was probably too busy keeping an eye out for danger to hear him. “I’m fine,” he said. And then: “Will you marry me?”

The sound of Caleb’s sputtering, choked noise of disbelieving shock shouldn’t have been half as funny as it was in the moment, but it was. “Ah, s-sorry?”

Essek couldn’t stop himself from dissolving into a fight of punch-drunk laughter, and finally stopped trying. “Well?” he asked. “Will you marry me? I’m all dressed up—” Though his wedding finery had been somewhat scorched and sliced by then. “—we’re at the appropriate temple. It almost seems a shame to waste the opportunity, wouldn’t you say?”

He didn’t _really_ expect Caleb to agree. It would have been enough just to hear Caleb laugh with him over the gloriously _bizarre_ turn that today had taken. 

And Caleb did laugh - loud and long and heartfelt, and it was the most beautiful sound Essek had ever heard. Then: “Jester?! Can you officiate a wedding?”

“Let’s find out!” Jester called from across the aisle. She summoned her duplicate by the cleric’s altar - the original officiant had long since fled - and crossed the distance in a flash by hastily switching places with it. She pulled out her holy symbol with a flourish and declared with a magically louder voice for all to hear: “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the eyes of the Traveler…”

Essek remembered everything about what happened next, and knew that he always would. He remembered the vows that he and Caleb made up on the spot for one another, he remembered them seizing a brief moment of calm in the chaos to seal those vows with a kiss. 

Then they pulled apart for the sake of Caleb throwing up a shield against a barrage of magic missiles. They exchanged a look, exchanged a nod, and then clasped hands so that Caleb could help him race over to Fjord, so that Essek could grab Fjord’s hand and be teleported out of the building by a thunder step that shook it to the very foundations.

The rest of the Mighty Nein - including Essek’s new husband - weren’t far behind after that, and Verin was hot on their heels, and Essek and Fjord both made sure to cover their retreat before they all fled the city together.

And later, Essek would waver and worry over how he’d just taken a direct hand in burning his old life to the ground. Later, he would wonder and fret over what he was supposed to do and where he was supposed to go from here. Later, the sheer breadth of boundless possibility for good or for ill that he suddenly found himself confronted with would leave him exhausted down to the bone.

But later, he could face all of those thoughts with his head in Caleb’s lap and Frumpkin purring away on his chest, with his friends and family around him and ready to keep him safe in defiance of all logic and reason.

And all of that together made the promise of a new future seem like something to aspire to.


End file.
